Edit: There was that guy who walked in and said, "I'd like a burrito, please." He also spoke in a Hispanic accent.

Here's a few customers from today.

I went out to help a girl who was standing and looking at the menu. "Can I help you?" I asked. She did not respond or, in fact, even blink, or give any indication that she had heard me. I patiently washed my hands and put on my gloves, and stood, waiting, for a few seconds. I asked again, "May I get something for you, ma'am?"

She shot me a look of utmost "ugh" and said "I'm trying to decide what to get. I don't know yet, okay?"

It made me mad. Look, I'm being nice, and courteous, and acting like I actually want to make your dinner when I haven't even eaten mine yet. Can't you at least show some appreciation?

As far as I know, I'm not racist. However, some days I reach a point where I simply don't want to take orders of people who don't speak English anymore. It's SO HARD. Here's how it might go/did go.

"Can I help you?"

"Um, yes, hello, I want the special please?"

"Yes, today's special is tuna. Is that okay?"

"Yes."

"What kind of bread do you want that on?"

He points. I hate it when they point. Like I said before, it's hard for me to see the bread display box from where I am. I had to jump up to see where he was pointing. Then he changed his mind, twice.

"And would you like that on a six inch or a foot long?"

"Big!"

"Okay."

"Special says 2 49, right?"

"Well, 2 49 for a six inch sandwich. Would you like a six inch?"

"Big!"

"Okay, so that will be five dollars, okay?" (as I was speaking, I was cutting a piece of bread.)

"I want the two special. The Ahct one."

"You want...two specials? One foot long, right?"

"No, get another one like that," he said, pointing at the foot long I'd gotten out.

"Oh, you want the 2 foot long for 8 99 special?"

"Yes, ahct ninety nine."

"Okay. What kind of sandwich do you want for this one?"

"Everything."

"Okay, but what kind of meat do you want?"

"Everything!" He motioned toward all of the meat.

"Sir, I can't give you all the meat."

"No? Okay, for that one, half tuna and half all the meats."

"I can't do that, because that would be two separate kinds of sandwich! The special is for two foot long sandwiches. Each sandwich has to be all the same kind."

At this, he went out to look at the sign outside advertising our special. I put my face in my hands.

Anyway, it was like that forever. End of story.

Oh, except then there were these two guys. They had strong Spanish accents. They had obviously ordered at Subway before, but the guy who was ordering spoke very quietly, so I ended up asking him to repeat a lot of things. They had four foot long sandwiches, and I was out making them for a while. Eventually I started talking to them, found out they were from Mexico, etc. Then, out of nowhere, one of the guys said "Hey, I love your eyes." I kind of gave him a look, then went back to putting teriyaki on a sandwich. "Yeah," he continued, "They're mostly brown. I love them." I said "Thanks" and tried to smile. But I was kind of creeped out. Then they were talking rapidly in Spanish to each other and punching each other and wrestling and laughing and looking at me. Ugh. The whole rest of the time.

Then the guy who came up and said, "How much for a six inch?" I said, "Well, I don't know, what kind of sandwich do you want?" He said "Oh." I like it when they get it. Of course, after that he told me what kind he wanted and again asked me how much, and I had to look at the menu for him.